


The Duck Newton Computer-Ghost-Spirit-Thing-Dream Experience

by acab



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Extended Scene, Gen, Missing Scene, Trans Duck Newton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-29 04:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20428763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acab/pseuds/acab
Summary: Everything’s fine. The photos on the wall are still intact, the water stain on the ceiling is still there, everything’s okay. Jane pads out from her room and rubs at her eyes, clutching a small plush bunny. “Duck? Are you okay?”Duck sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Go back to bed, goofus. There’s nothing going on. It’s fine.”Jane frowns and lets her arms fall to her side, the leg of her stuffed rabbit just barely above the floor. “Okay.” She turns back to her room and mumbles, “You don’t have to call me goofus.”Duck doesn’t get time to smile fondly as the thing speaks up.





	The Duck Newton Computer-Ghost-Spirit-Thing-Dream Experience

**Author's Note:**

> i took the miverva and duck dialogue from the wiki transcripts, which are from the people over at [tazscripts!](https://tazscripts.tumblr.com/tazscripts) auditory processing issues are hell for podcasts. everyone say thank you tazscripts mod team

Duck shoots himself up, covered in a thin layer of sweat and hoodie practically glued to his back. He looks to his side, to see nothing but his binder and a couple of miscellaneous items on the floor, then to his other, only to see… well, the  _ wall.  _ He’s rubbing his face as a voice sounds out through the room; “I apologise for the rude awakening, Duck Newton! If you must take a moment to collect yourself before speaking, I completely understand!”

Duck looks  _ up,  _ finally, and blinks. “What the fuck?” He goes to grab the front of his hoodie in a feeble attempt to hide his chest, before realising he’s probably asleep again anyway. He has to be. He’s  _ gotta  _ be. 

But then it talks again. 

“My name is  _ Minerva,  _ Duck Newton! And—”

Duck screams. He screams, loud and clear, guttural and deep, as he jumps out of bed and tails it for his door. He runs straight through the…  _ thing,  _ and throws open his door, looking around for any sign of fire or his family. Everything’s fine. The photos on the wall are still intact, the water stain on the ceiling is still there, everything’s okay. Jane pads out from her room and rubs at her eyes, clutching a small plush bunny. “Duck? Are you okay?”

Duck sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Go back to bed, goofus. There’s nothing going on. It’s fine.” 

Jane frowns and lets her arms fall to her side, the leg of her stuffed rabbit just barely above the floor. “Okay.” She turns back to her room and mumbles, “You don’t have to call me goofus.” 

Duck doesn’t get time to smile fondly as the  _ thing  _ (a ghost, maybe?) speaks up. “If you’re quite done, I must tell you that you have been chosen to fulfill a fate of  _ cosmic _ importance!” He turns around and crosses his arms. 

“All right, first off, who the hell are you? I know you’re not a friend of my mom, ‘cause you’re calling me Duck, and I know she hates that. So that—” he falters, for a moment, realising that the ghost—computer?—probably wouldn’t know who he was, and he totally just outed himself. “That’s—you’re not a friend of my mom. Who are you, who sent you? Is this a…” he thinks back, for a moment, to his mental List Of Things This Glowing Blue Thing could be. “Ah, okay. This is computers! I’ve been hearing people talk about that, the AV club, they’re saying a lot of stuff about  _ computers _ and all the  _ stuff _ they can do. You’re computers, aren’t you?”

It almost looks offended and then laughs lightly, for just a moment. It puffs its chest up as it says, “I am not computers, Duck Newton!”  _ Definitely not Mom’s friend.  _ “I come from a faraway place, you’re not ready quite yet to understand that. But you must understand, Duck Newton, and this will be difficult news to hear—your world is imperilled, Duck Newton. It is besieged by a supernatural threat that would spell certain doom for not just your planet, but for two planets that have found themselves linked by destiny itself!” He swallows. It’s—they’re? They’re using a lot of big words now, words Duck would have never gotten right in the spelling bee if he’d made it past the third round, so he assumes they’re at least somewhat telling the truth. Maybe. “Even now, horrific abominations march on your world, threatening to destroy the lives of your neighbours, friends, and loved ones without hesitation or remorse. The forces your world have assembled to defend itself will prove insufficient to see to this threat. You have been called, Duck Newton, to do what they cannot!” 

Duck sighs and uncrosses his arms. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

They flail a bit as their chest collapses again, their posture falling to something of  _ normal  _ proportions rather than stiff as a board. “To fight—to  _ fight  _ them!” At the stammer, the break in their persona or character or  _ whatever,  _ Duck decides it’s bullshit. He’s gonna lay back down, and wake up, and he’ll be fine. This is one of those dream-in-a-dream things. 

He decides while he’s here, in this dream where his sister hates being called goofus and strangers actually call him Duck, he’ll entertain them and go along with it. What’s the worst that can happen? “Yeah.”

They grin and puff their chest back out again. “Do not fear fighting them, though, Duck Newton! You will be imbued with the strength of ancients to see to this task. Outfitted with the mightiest armaments in existence, and trained by one of the greatest warriors this universe has ever known…!” They pridefully hold their hand out for Duck to take, “Which is me.”

Duck looks at their hand then back up at them, knowing damn well he won’t be able to grab that thing. “Yeah.” He walks back to his bed and curls up in it, wrapped around his bear and his head resting on its. “I got class tomorrow, though.” 

* * *

Duck wakes up, for  _ real,  _ around noon. He can hear his parents and his sister downstairs, lunch already being made, and wonders if they tried to wake him. Probably not. He’s a force to be  _ reckoned  _ with when he’s woken up before he’s ready. Hell, before his coffee. Eighteen and a caffeine addiction, he’s really going places. 

He rubs his hands down his face and flops back down onto the bed. “Saving the world, huh? Yeah.” He laughs. “Oh, Punkin, we’re really in it now.” He hoists himself out of bed, finally, and pads down the stairs to the living room. “Mornin’.”

“Morning, Duck! Did you see the news? There was a double rainbow!  _ Two  _ rainbows! At  _ once!”  _ Jane squeezes her rabbit and looks up at him with an expectant grin. 

_ “Really,  _ now?” He sits next to her on the floor and inspects her messy braid. “You need to fix this.”

She frowns. “You fix it, if it bothers you so much. And yeah! Then news lady said it was, like… super rare. Can you believe it?” 

Duck hums and gets to work on brushing her braid out. She keeps rambling on and on about how it’s proof that magic is real, and their parents are such stuckups, and Duck can’t help but smile at her passion. She’s so young, so carefree. He almost lost her, in that damn fire, but the fire wasn’t  _ real,  _ and she was okay. 

“—y. Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” Duck looks up at his mother, who sighs. 

“I’m  _ leaving.  _ I have to go get groceries. Do try to act at least somewhat normal, please. I really don’t wish to explain to your sister why  _ her _ si—”

Duck laughs loudly, forced as he narrows his eyes. “Great! See you later! Bye, Mom! Safe travels! Uh, bon voyage! Whatever, whatever.” His face falls as the door closes. 

Jane turns around to face him. “I know you’re a boy. Mom just likes trouble, that’s what Dad always says.”

“Yeah.” Duck wraps his sister’s tie around the base of her new,  _ fixed  _ braid. “He’s right. What were y’all making?”

“Dad tried to make me some mac, but he burned it. That’s why he’s smoking.”

Duck hums and casts a glance out of the window at his father, his head in his hands, as dramatic as ever. “How’s about we make  _ us _ some mac? Just for you and me?”

_ “REALLY!” _

“Yes, damn, no need to be so loud.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Go get the milk, I’ll catch up with you in a sec.” When she runs off, Duck sighs softly and picks himself up off of the ground. He puts a hand to his lower ribs as they ache, and that’s when he notices it. 

His hoodie is still damp with sweat.

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write out how i imagined this scene in my head! sorry if there's any inconsistencies with anything later in the podcast i'm only on episode sixteen (the beginning) as i'm writing this note! if i find anything i think maybe doesn't fit i might come back here and fix it. thanks for reading! i love you :)


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